Father's Day
Masquerade sits beside
his daughter: white face and
slender body
she looks like a flamenco
that evening
she feeds him some
yakosoba noodles
using the chopsticks
it's father's day and i look at them
with envious pity
at the 39th floor
i look at the city: lively like
stars twinkling
at the ground
inside is the sound of emptiness
hissing like a snake whose tail is cut
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Related quotes
Twinkling stars
Twinkling stars
Twinkling stars are always inspiring for me.
They are watching me in the nights
as my father did.
I find the image of my father in these stars.
Today my father is away from me like stars.
So when I miss my father
I always recall stars in the nights.
They provide some satisfaction
& relief from my grief.
poem by Vijay Gupta
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One Day Traveler
Whenever I've traveled to a crowded city
I always think, 'Oh what a pity
to live in a city.'
For the skyscrapers there
so high in the air
have hidden the blue of the sky
except for the birds that fly.
The cold gray stone adorned with lights
never seem warm until the nights.
Their blinking neons can't compare
with the twinkling stars up in the air.
And again I think,
'Oh what a pity to live in the city.'
The hustle, the bustle and constant noise
have become for some the city's joys.
The screeching brakes, the honking sounds
is an abrupt assault to my head that pounds.
And again I think,
'Oh what a pity to live in a city.'
A one day visit and I'm ready to leave
and I know that I could never conceive
of being at home, never to roam
where the grass grows under my feet,
except for a country street
and again I think,
'Oh what a pity to live in a city.'
poem by Edwina Reizer
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The Cause of Enmity between Snake and Man
Snake, the first owner of fire.
Dog, the robber of fire.
Man the last owner of fire.
The snake gave birth first to fire.
Thus fire, the first born of snake.
Thus snake, only owner of fire long ago.
One cold evening
The man dying of coldness
The dog seen it master dying of coldness
It went to snake house and begged
The snake, the mother of fire to let
It tail get warm of fire
The snake cordially welcomed the dog
The dog twisted it tail on fire
The tail caught the fire
The dog jumped over the snake in door
Ran quickly to it master, the man
The man took the grass and wood
And lit up the fire
The fire lit up in man’s house
And it extinguished in snake’s house
The snake come to get fire back
But the man attack the snake
The hostility between man and snake
Began then
poem by David Aoloch Bion
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In The Church
the mother sits beside
the daughter as the sermon
of the priests goes on
for an hour or more
the father at the other end
beside a woman with a white face
closes his eyes
dreaming for the moon cohabiting
with the brighter stars
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Indifference Of The Other
the I
in me shuts down the switches
there is no wave
nothing sort of a line runs
it becomes a straight line
there is no curve in between
when I face you again
i turn on the switches again
like an offering for a nice conversation
about anything else: a son
a sun, a sound of life, a cry, a thud,
a soft touch like a gushing water on the rock
like a ticking clock
i am in the middle of a nice story
you were listening at first as you sip your black coffee
there is this character, a man looking for an opening
a woman about to find an exit
then you look around
this happens at the 39th floor
one sees a world view of the city
tiny lights, moving worm like neon along the streets
of pain
i begin to stare
i turn off the switches inside my guts my armpits
inside my chest there is a drum that stops calling the spirits
of the wind
i look at the live band singing a Latin song
i like the beat now and then i pretend that you are gone
someone down there at the ground floor
where you are crushed like a pumpkin
shall pick you up
they will not just be surprised
they will know what existence means
how precious life is really
i switch off this weird imagination about you
but we will still be leaving together
no one notices the glitch
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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How Are You?
morning
is your usual sound
vibrant as the
wings of
a seagull
diving upon
a white
fish
against a blue
sea
it is evening
i sit alone on a chair at the porch
trying to
listen to
your whisper
rising into a
lively conversation
like
a crowd of three
at the
balcony
i am worried
the city has no electricity
and it is dark
you have become so far away from me
like
a vanishing
light
i need you to
make a sound
even the faintest sound
of a cellphone
in silent mode with
a matching
vibration
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Scarry moment..
The serpent was in front of me,
But a real king Cobra, so slim,
Sparkling with bluish tint,
Scales glittered with no attempts,
The eyes, piecing as the arrows,
Lifted the head for a foot, narrow,
Tail holds the ground in anger,
Shaking tongue protruded in despair,
The orange mouth opened wider,
The hissing whistle sounds higher,
My trembling hand took the hand phone,
Called the City Hall for assistance,
They told me to ‘snake sit' for a while,
If run away, inform them at once,
I looked at the snake,
The snake looked at me,
My tied dogs looked at us,
They were angry with me,
For I prevented them,
From doing their duty,
I told the snake,
"If I let you go, you will be caught,
Someone may finish you,
Go with our officers,
They will leave you in the jungle,
And you can live happily"
As if it heard what I said,
The snake put down the head,
My dogs and the serpent were quiet,
That moment was so unique,
I stood just ten feet away,
when it was taken away.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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Father And Daughter
on a chair father sits
and daughter sits on his lap
mother is away
and father whistles a song
it was a long time
and mother dies earlier
than father
the daughter sets on a sail
far away
no one knows where
but everyone remembers
the talk becomes the official story
of the town
pretending to be happy just like any other
town in our history
the father dies and daughter
comes back
bringing the flowers
she lights a candle
she sheds no tears
poem by Suki Nakamura
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Masquerade
Im here , laying underneath
But there is nothing left to say
You slowly went your way from me
Felt your softness fade away
Who am I ?
To make you stay
Oh , here we go again
Entering the masquerade
This is the place
Dreams will shatter
Cover your face and care no more
She dont care no more
These narrowed eyes I dont know
Nothing is there behind
The mask you wear
Now it feels so unreal
Cold as ice
This face I see
Masquerade , masquerade
Let me out
Masquerade, masquerade
Care no more
Masquerade
She dont care no more
Masquerade, masquerade
Let me out to save her
song performed by by Xymox
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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If I Ever Was a Snake
If I was a snake, my eyes would be green,
I would wander the land and look real mean.
If I was a snake, I'd know how to sting,
Despite all the trouble it would bring.
If I was a snake, I'd be red and gold,
I would slither and slather and eat my mice cold.
If I was a snake, I'd rattle my tail,
But I'd be polite and never go to jail.
If I was a snake, I'd slide on my tummy,
Hamsters and mice would be real yummy.
If I was a snake, I'd live on the ground,
Sleeping and snoring 'till I was found.
I would never learn how to rake,
If I ever was a snake.
poem by October Bradley
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A Fourtunate Father With His New Daughter, -Dedicated To Joyce Loba Flores. by Ray Subrata
The unquenched thirst,
Of Father, for daughter’s love,
Fountains with a call, -Baba,
From a voice of distant land,
While I am in India, my daughter,
In the farthest Philippines stands.
The face of youngest daughter Hamma,
Appears in Jhoy Loba’s image,
I send her a request, and wait.
‘Good evening sir, its my pleasure ‘
‘Thank you sweet little daughter like friend’,
And my psychic lingered willing suspense.
‘It is my pleasure Baba’, -came the message,
Moment made eternity, opening a father’s passage ‘
I felt a touch, as soothing as much,
From the voice of my new daughter,
A flower divine, by nature shines,
By her beauty in my Father’s bower!
The Father in Man remains hidden,
And it opens with a daughter’s call,
It is more than a glory to a Man,
As in the daughter, -the mother resembles!
poem by Bazi alis Subrata Ray
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Surprise in Japan - Using Chopsticks
the Japanese says
he's surprised I use
chopsticks too
I thought everybody knows Chopsticks orgiinated in China and spread around from there. So I was very surprised when several Japanese expressed surprise that I can use chopsticks. Perhaps, they are not well versed in the history of chopsticks.
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Testify
Come a little closer it's a feeling that I can't deny
I was weak, but I never thought I'd speak about the darker side
Is that a ten? I could repent on the side of the road
But, I kept on going yeah I headed for another load
I get up from the ground in the middle of the morning
Up from the ground in the middle of the evening
Up from the ground in the middle of the night
Oh, I testify
I was laid upon the grave by a preacher's hand I cannot lie
And, I forsake many vows I made to be with you tonight
Could you be the salvation cause I never felt like this before
And, could you lend me your hand because I'm falling back on the floor
I get up from the ground in the middle of the morning
Up from the ground in the middle of the evening
Up from the ground in the middle of the night
Oh, I testify
On a road outside of nowhere, in the middle of the night
Well I guess I hit rock bottom and the dawn was not in sight
And a Tempest made of fire, onset the sky aglow
And a sweet young thing called out my name
And this is how it goes, she says...
Choir:
"Go boy, can you hear them?
Are you falling through the cracks in your eyes?"
"Go boy, can you hear them?
Are you falling through the cracks in your eyes?"
"Go boy, can you hear them?
Are you falling through the cracks in your eyes?"
Meatloaf: And I got down on my knees
Choir :"Go boy, can you hear them?
Are you falling through the cracks in your eyes?"
"Go boy, can you hear them?
Are you falling through the cracks in your eyes?"
Meatloaf (over the top of the choirs last two repititions):
I get up from the ground in the middle of the morning
Up from the ground in the middle of the evening
Up from the ground and I'm falling back down
Up from the ground and I testify
I get up from the ground in the middle of the morning
Up from the ground in the middle of the evening
Up from the ground and I'm falling back down
Up from the ground and I testify
Meatloaf & Choir:
Up from the ground in the middle of the morning
Up from the ground in the middle of the evening
Up from the ground and I'm falling back down
Up from the ground and I testify
Up from the ground in the middle of the morning
Up from the ground in the middle of the evening
Up from the ground and I'm falling back down
Up from the ground and I testify
Meatloaf:
Every cut that heals reveals a scar that you can never hope to hide
All the pain that you restrain keeps building up deep inside
If you think you're above it then it's you my friend that I implore
You've got to talk before you run
See the night before the dawn
Before you pull yourself off the floor
I get up from the ground in the middle of the morning
Up from the ground in the middle of the evening
Up from the ground in the middle of the night
Oh, I testify
Choir Singer: Up from the ground yeah, I testify
Meatloaf & Choir:
Up from the ground in the middle of the morning
Up from the ground in the middle of the evening
Up from the ground and I'm falling back down
Up from the ground and I testify
Up from the ground in the middle of the morning
Up from the ground in the middle of the evening
Up from the ground in the middle of the night
Oh, I testify
Up from the ground in the middle of the morning
Up from the ground in the middle of the evening
Up from the ground in the middle of the night
Oh, I testify
Up from the ground in the middle of the morning
Up from the ground in the middle of the evening
Up from the ground in the middle of the night
Oh, I testify
song performed by by Meat Loaf
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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False Lips
A snake swallows a human being and that's life,
But what kind of snake is that? ! !
For the devil needs not to be part of us,
And like joy in the land of peace.
The father of the fool has no joy because,
An evil doer listens to false lips! !
So we have to get rid of this kind of snake,
For peace, love and unity are what we need always.
A sound mind is health to the body,
But this snake has swallowed a human being! !
And each heart knows ts own bitterness,
But no stranger shares its joy.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Riff & Roll
Hey, hey you
Lift your face off down the ground
Hey, hey you
With the junkies all around
Hey, hey you
Would your feeling's sound the sad
Hey, hey you
With your face on the flame
Hey, hey you
This is all a silly game
Hey, hey you
Would your feelings sound the same
Well, you know you got that love
Baby, inspiration
And you got that old generation
With your feet down
Down on the ground
And then you sing songs baby
When you know who's around
Say baby
Hey, hey wait
Whatcha gonna do with that whore
Get your brains scraped off the floor
Hey, hey you
What you got in the door
Yeah, hey, hey you
You gotta let it go
Hey, hey you
What's on in the middle east
Hey, hey you
Why don't you take another piece
' hey, hey you
Would your feelings sound the same
That's it, stay around....
One, two, three, four
Hey, hey you
With that face on the fire
Hey, hey you
Sing your ass of in the choir
Hey, hey you
Don't let things go too long
Too long, too long
Hey, hey you
With your ass on the ground
Hey, hey you
Never say you get the sound
Hey, hey you
What did you think of the sound
song performed by by Aerosmith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What Kind Of Father Are You?
Do a father leave his three daughter down and dry
Do a father come only three times out of a year
What kind of father are you?
Should a father leave his daughters just to take care of an other women son and daughter...
What kind of father are you?
Can a father broke a promise that he promise 10 years ago
Should a father be ashame of his three daughter looks or weight
If so what kind of father are you?
poem by Valentine White
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Shitty Kitty City
There's a lobby by my study where my visitors may enter
which, since we got the kittens, has a dirtbox at the centre.
They're still too young to go outside, that's why I ask for pity:
they've turned my quiet oasis into Shitty Kitty City.
Pity, pity, isn't it a pity?
They've turned my quiet oasis into Shitty Kitty City.
Their mother trained them very well to go into the tray.
They do their stuff and cover it - that's fair enough, you say;
but litter gets flicked everywhere, so underfoot is gritty:
you need your wellies on indoors for Shitty Kitty City.
Pity, pity, isn't it a pity?
You need your wellies on indoors for Shitty Kitty City.
Mind the crap... Mind the crap... Stand clear of the turds, please.
I scoop the jobbies off the floor: the cats think I collect 'em,
so each one keeps on squeezing me a present from its rectum.
There's steaming heaps all over, and it isn't smelling pretty -
it's best to wear a gasmask when in Shitty Kitty City.
Pity, pity, isn't it a pity?
It's best to wear a gasmask when in Shitty Kitty City.
Ip dip dog shit, you are not it.
But soon they will be big enough to do it in the garden.
I'm putting out my begging bowl, for which I beg your pardon.
And now you see, good people all, the reason for my ditty -
a whipround for a catflap door for Shitty Kitty City.
Pity, pity, isn't it a pity?
I need to buy a catflap door for Shitty Kitty City.
poem by Wild Bill Balding
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Father And Daughter
Father and daughter spend some quiet time together in the living room
Shining through the curtain is the sun
And outside is the glorious afternoon
Father reads to his daughter the poetry she loves
Father and daughter enjoy each other's company
Father takes his daughter by the hand
As they take a walk outside
Father cares for his daughter
And always wishes the very best to happen for her
poem by Justin Gildow
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The Mountain And The Snake
a long black yellow snake with stripes
arrives hissing
looking for a prey
a rat perhaps
but there is none
not even an ant for a snack
and so the long black yellow snake with stripes of green
slides its way to a dark, moist cave
tight on its door
pushing its long slimy body
to the tip of the
cave's orifice to the end of its
intestine
it was a good tickle
and the whole body of the mountain
gives a tremble
a moan and from the slits of its sides
to the tip of its feet
and toes and trees
the whole body of the mountain
moans
happy with the long slimy body of the
snake's skin and bone.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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My Father’s Son
Once
when I was still a baby boy
obsessed, thrilled with dark night sky
father said, shut your eyes tightly
then sailed I into dark night sky
dreaming of my arms
dipping in deep, dark-blue velvety
palpating golden sheen of the golden full moon
snatching twinkling stars.
But
i fell like lead
just before hard ground
to my father’s arms- veinated, calloused
his chirped nails safely grabbed
then
i opened my eyes
stretching my empty arms, pink nails
for a earnest glimpse of
a dip of deep, dark-blue velvety
golden sheen of the golden full moon
snatched twinkling stars.
and I felt sad.
Then-
father buried his head on my nape
his grizzly beard tickling my face
making little ‘blurp’ ‘blurp’ sounds
my shrill laughter
accosting his deep throaty laughter
echoing my disappointment into dark night sky
before sailing me into dark night sky
back to his rough-gentle arms
again
again
and again
to dip in deep, dark-blue velvety
palpate golden sheen of the golden full moon
snatching twinkling stars.
“Drink all Ma’s omena* soup
to be taller, reach the dark night sky”
father said, following my gaze
into the dark night sky
static radio bleating reggae
golden full moon bathing us in golden sheen
just me and my father
sleeping in his rough-gentle arms
dreaming of my arms
dipping in deep, dark-blue velvety
palpating golden sheen of the golden full moon
snatching twinkling stars
poem by Manuel Odeny
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